Lose Yourself in Me
by GinnyWhetherby
Summary: There's been an attack. Fresh out of training, James Potter is finally a full fledged auror. Next thing he knows, he's pulled head first into his first experience with real chaos and casualties, but when one victim of the attack has chocolate brown hair identical to that of his sister's best friend of six years, what's a scared kid to do? A companion piece to Somewhere With You.
1. Never the Same

There was chaos everywhere. Spells being thrown across the street, streaking various colors in the waning light of dusk. Dust and bits of damaged pavement and brick rained down and settled heavily over everything in sight.

I ducked behind a row of trashcans and began aiming spells at the nearest Death Eaters. Most were blocked by a shield charm or dodged, but watched as two masked figures fell unconscious to the street as my stunning charms hit their marks. I ducked down behind the cans and threw my arms over my head as one angered Death Eater's curse exploded the trashcan in front of me, scattering shards of metal all around me.

I jumped away from the cans and ran to the nearest storefront. Behind a sign for Madame Pip's Pompous Headwear, I peeked out into the street. I saw a few shopkeepers and civilians scurrying away, fleeing the alley, barely dodging spells as they flew toward them instead connecting with the walls of the shops just behind them resulting in more rubble and debris raining down. I stunned three Death Eaters from my hiding spot and cast protective charms over two fleeing boys, then turned to survey the closest threats.

There was a sudden stillness. Spells stopped flying across the street as the remaining Death Eaters apparated away, clearly outmatched. I saw a few fellow aurors looking about curiously from their places of hiding. Apparently, the fight was over. The head of my unit called for us to verify status. A fancy way of saying "tell me who's still here". We lost two. Ed Westpurt and Fadrin Pulkis were found dead next to the Cauldron Emporium both by the killing curse.

From there, we searched for civilians, the injured and the dead. Their numbers were much higher than ours. I must have leaned down to check the pulse of fifteen people, and all but four didn't have one anymore. This attack on Diagon Alley was unexpected, violent, and devastating. Voldemort's supporters still fought for a long dead cause. With their leader gone and their reputations ruined, there was only senseless killing and maiming; they took revenge on a society that made them powerless.

I leaned down over a large man, armed, but probably not properly trained for battle, his eyes were dull and his hand was cold. No pulse. He makes twelve. Then thirteen. If these trained men and women fell victim to the Death Eaters, I can't imagine how many Hogwarts-age students now lie dead in the streets of London. I felt sick as I turned away from my fourteenth, a middle-aged woman with a few bags scattered around her as if she had been shopping and had dropped them as she tried to flee. How long would it be before the family she was shopping for heard of her death? As I continued my rounds, I thought of my own family. My mum and dad, safely at home in Godric's Hollow after I sent my patronus to warn them about the attack. My little brother, Albus, who went to Egypt for a year with Rosie, Scorpius, and some friends from Hogwarts. Lily, who is in her last year at Hogwarts, home for the Christmas holiday. My aunts and uncles and cousins, none of whom, thankfully, were in Diagon Alley during the attack. I thought of my best friend, Ben, who is across the street kneeling, and checking the pulse of a young woman with chocolate brown hair.

_No. _My head snapped back around to look at the girl. Her hair was fanned out around her head.

_No, no, no, no._ I stood up from the ground to get a better look at her face, pale and marked with a gash above her right eyebrow and-

_Merlin, please, no_. Ben's eyes were full of tears.

I stood up and sprinted over to Ben. My heart was beating in my throat. I could hear my pulse in my ears but I couldn't hear anything else. My vision narrowed and focused only on Ben's hand feeling the base of her neck for signs of life and her face. Her beautiful, sleeping face. He looked up when I approached and, with sad eyes and a knowing glance, back down at her- Kirsten- Lily's best friend-17 years old-a girl with her whole life ahead of her.

At that moment, with a knot in my throat, I remembered how Lily brought home a new friend with bright, brown eyes for the summer after her first year and how I recognized the girl from the train when I teased her for having an American accent even though I thought it was really cool she was from America. And how the five of us: Kirsten, Lily, Albus, Ben and me, spent the summer by the pond, laughing and playing Quidditch. I remember how Kirsten, a first year who had barely ever been on a broom, and had certainly never played Quidditch before, caught the snitch during our first match in the backyard, and I remember how embarrassed Albus was for being beaten by a first year.

I remember how I woke up one morning over the Christmas holiday of my fourth year, and Lily and Kirsten were in the kitchen, covered in flour and frantically trying to figure out how to clean cookie dough off of the walls and ceiling and how it took us nearly the entire morning to scrub it clean before mum got home. And I remember how she used to be afraid of flying, until Lily begged me to teach her properly. I remember how our first attempt to desensitize her to it caused a bit of trauma when Lily convinced her to let me take her up on my broom and show her that flying wasn't scary when you knew how to do it. And how I laughed and she screamed as I barrel rolled the broom in the air. And I remember how I accidently dropped her when we were rolling and she broke her arm. I remember how she refused to ride my broom with me after that incident.

I remember being furious with her once for borrowing my broom without asking and getting it stuck in a tree in the backyard. I remember being _so _angry, I told her that she should just go home and stop coming over ALL THE TIME. And I remember how her eyes watered as she ran away from me. I also remember how painfully my head throbbed after Lily whacked it with her Charms book when she found out what I said. And how I found out just WHY Kirsten spent most of her holidays at our house. And I remember trying to find her for the better part of an hour to apologize, but discovered her laughing and playing with the gnomes in the garden and, instead of apologizing, I watched her for a half hour from behind a tree because she looked so carefree and innocent.

I remember during my cousin, Roxanne's birthday party, we played tag at the Burrow and when I was It, I chased Kirsten all the way to the pond back behind the house and tagged her, but in her haste to get away, she tripped on a rock by the edge of the pond and reached out to grab my sleeve for support only resulting in the two of us plunging into the chilly water.

I remember when Ben borrowed her book ("for a prop, not to _read"_)and accidently got it wet and how she wouldn't talk to him for a week. I remember, in fourth year, when Lily told me that Kirsten was in love with me. And how I laughed and teased her and how Ben laughed at me for teasing her, claiming that it was just because I liked a second year and I was embarrassed to admit it. I remember waking up at two in the morning one night at the end of my fifth year because I heard some noise coming from the common room, and upon closer inspection, I discovered Kirsten curled up on the couch in front of the fire, quietly crying. I remember not knowing what to do, but not having the heart to leave her there, alone, so I fell asleep on the steps to the boy's dormitory for the entire night.

And I remember how she turned a blind eye to the snide insults and threats from a few students who hated her because her parents weren't wizards. And I remember how in 6th year, I almost saw her get cursed in the hallway. And I remember when she rescued me from Filch, saving my Quidditch career. And the next year, when I became captain and my team played the last match, I remember that she was cheering the loudest.

And I remember how when we won, she winked at me good-naturedly from the stands and made me think of that night she made it possible for me to play that game. And how when my team was surrounded by jovial classmates, and my girlfriend, Gwen, came up and kissed me, Kirsten disappeared and how I didn't see her again that day. And I remembered not really caring that much because she was just fifteen and I was seventeen and I had way more important things to worry about.

I remember how infuriated I was when I found her that night during the after-party, drunk off her arse, giggling and swinging a bottle of firewhiskey, singing horribly off-key. I remember furiously telling her to go to bed, but she wouldn't hear of it forcing me to grab my broom out of my dormitory, peel her away from the dirt bag trying to hit on her while she was plastered, throw her over my shoulder and fly her up their, myself.

I remember when I came home for every holiday after that, she was always there, sitting in my living room, reading, or playing chess with my dad, or perched at the kitchen table having a conversation with my mum. I remember when I came home to surprise Lily for her sixteenth birthday and I hadn't seen Kirsten in over a year, but I walked in and saw her lounging in an armchair, reading a book and how, for just a second, she took my breath away. And I remember how guilty I felt for looking at my _little sister's best friend_ like that. And I remember how she looked up and saw me and how her concentrated frown that she always got when reading curved up into a huge smile. And how she stood up and dropped her book into the armchair, ran up and hugged me. And I hugged her back. I remember telling Ben that night how I looked at her and how he laughed and said 'I told you so'. But how, then, he told me if I screw with her, he'll kick my ass.

I remember how upset my family was when I told them I had to leave England for a year to train for the auror program in Bulgaria and Russia and Germany and France. I remember promising to write my mum, and hugging my dad and shaking hands with my brother because he was 'too old' for hugs. And I remember how Lily was crying and I told her it would be ok, and that I would send her letters and postcards all the time and that a year would go by faster than she could imagine. And how I kissed her on the forehead and hugged Kirsten, who also looked a bit teary, and left with the ministry employee to catch my 'flight' on a 'aroplane', when really, I would have preferred to ride my broom all the way to Bulgaria because that contraption was scary. And I remember how that was the last time I saw Kirsten for almost two years. I remembered all of that simultaneously, but it seemed much slower because the clips and images were running through my head and the world around me had slowed to almost a standstill.

I looked at Ben, wiping away tears from his eyes and listening for a heartbeat, just one tiny little sound that would give him hope. But the tears fell faster, and I realized what it meant. I kneeled next to my little sister's best friend and grabbed her wrist and I tried to find the veins to feel for, but my hands were shaking too much. Ben had since stood up. He put his hand on my shoulder and tried to coax me away. And he kept saying,

"C'mon, James. C'mon. They need our help. C'mon James," through his tears. But I ignored him and focused on moving my hands without shaking.

He tried to draw me up but I pushed him off and pressed two finger to her neck. Soft sobs wracked my body, but I focused on her neck, and my fingers, and her face, the face of a little girl I had known for many years. I was holding my breath and couldn't hear a sound coming from anywhere or anyone around me, including Ben. The only thing I could hear was the erratic beating of my own heart.

I put my head to her chest one more time, and I squeezed my eyes shut and listened, and it wasn't hard when I couldn't hear anything or anyone or Ben pleading with me to "C'mon". And I heard it. A faint, almost nonexistent flutter. At first, it surprised me so much, I straightened up. I thought it was my own heartbeat, or a cruel trick of my mind. I leaned down and heard it again. It was soft, and irregular, but it was there and I loved the beautiful sound of it and so I kept listening, and there was nothing more important than making sure I listened to each beautiful beat of her soft, erratic heart.

And Ben was crying now and he made to pull me back but I said his name and he didn't hear me. Head still pressed to her chest, catching every quiet flutter of her heart, I said his name again. And my bubble of silence popped and a million sounds flooded my ears. People crying and people yelling to one another and Ben, Ben was telling me that I had to get up, and there were medi-witches and people in stretchers and the soft thump of her heart was drowned out by the noise around us.

"James. Get up! C'mon James, we need to help. We're aurors. Please get up. J-"

"Ben!" I shouted, silencing him. I looked at him, eyes wide and hopeful.

"I hear it, Ben. It's there. I heard it!" I must have sounded a bit insane, but Ben could tell I wasn't crazy. His eyes widened and he kneeled again, putting his head on her chest, screwing up his eyes in concentration. Then, he opened them.

"That's impossible," he whispered. We looked at each other and he stood up and went to search for a medi-witch and I drew her to me and lifted her off of the cold, filthy ground.

**A/N: Hey there! My name is GinnyWhetherby and I have a Harry Potter fanfiction problem. I'm an avid reader- I've been a member of for a number of years, but haven't published much of my own writing. **_**Lose Myself in You**_** is a fic I've been dabbling with and adding to whenever I could no longer suppress the urge to write, and I've finally plucked up the nerve to post it! I have to say, it feels kind of refreshing having other people read my scribblings-turned-stories! The first three chapters are up, and the next few are written and undergoing revision. I'm REALLY excited and nervous to see what reactions I get from this story! I'd like any kind of feedback you can give me. All is helpful and all is appreciated! Thank you fellow fanfictioners!**

**~oOo~GinnyWhetherby~oOo~**


	2. Losing Myself

Pain. That's all that I can recall from my first few seconds of consciousness. Exhaustion. Confusion. Debilitating pain. My throat was raw and dry. I winced, then groaned a bit. My stiff joints ached. I tossed my head to the side and tried to take a deep breath. I coughed a little, then a lot. My eyes fluttered open and adjusted to my dim surroundings. I was on a white hospital bed. I clenched the sheets in my hands and let the fabric run through my fingers. It was light outside, I could see through the little window across from my bed. The rest of the room was quiet, but not empty. Five other beds were spaced out evenly along the walls of the room. I noticed that one of my sleeping companions had thick white bandages wrapped around his head and lower arm, typical for severe injuries that require time, as well as magic, to fully mend themselves. A stabbing pain jutted through my forehead, slicing it from one temple to the other. I moaned and squeezed my eyes shut to block out the pain, tossing my head from side to side.

_Why am_ **I** _here?_ I thought as the pain subsided. Obviously, the place was St. Mungo's. I had been here once before after I had broken my arm…. But why was I here, _now_?

I propped myself up on my elbows and scanned the room again. I saw a pile of gifts and flowers and balloons next to my bed that I had overlooked before. A little toy dragon perched nearest to me on my bed-stand, his eyes occasionally glowing red and blue and green and pink. Next to him, a tiny, fluffy little stuffed critter, _a niffler_, I recognized from Care of Magical Creatures, stood. In between them, animated and stationary pictures decorated the fronts of every card. Boy, there must have been twenty of them! A quidditch player zoomed across the front of one. The caption at the bottom kept re-writing itself and then erasing and re-writing once more. It read, "You'll be in tip-top quaffle chasing shape in no time. Get Well Soon, Friend!" I smirked and read the front of the next card, "Feel better or I'll sick this niffler on you!" A small black creature, identical to the stuffed one on the table next to the card, was digging madly in the dirt. When he came up with a gold ring, the woman handling the niffler took it and put it on, staring admiringly at the pretty piece. Then, from the side of the card, the niffler launched itself onto the woman's hand and both of them tumbled out of the card's frame.

I giggled and turned away from the gifts, peering more closely at the beds near me. There was a sleeping little boy at the end of the hall, closest to the only door in the room. He was the one with gauze wrapped around his forehead and his arm covered in white, much like a muggle cast.

Across from him was a kind-faced elderly woman reading a book and glancing at her watch occasionally. She had dark blonde, graying hair tied back in a loose bun, her reading glasses perched on her nose, her finely featured countenance, and a hint of a regal posture gave her an unintentional guise of superiority.

Next, a man in his late teens or early twenties lay, snoring softly in his own white hospital bed. He had an assortment of vile-looking potions next to his bed and I was grateful that mine was merely piled with gifts.

Across from the snoring boy was an empty bed and next to that bed, was mine. In the last, directly across from mine, an elderly man was grumbling.

He had his eyes closed but venomously complained under his breath about the woman's reading light and the snoring boy and his inability to fall asleep. Brown, almost completely gray hair covered his head, but thinned to almost nothing at the top. His narrowed, blue eyes opened and stared hard at the foot of his bed, willing the snoring boy to be silent but finding no success. He clenched his teeth together in frustration, sighed loudly, and closed his eyes again. I decided that the man across from my bed had probably been present when I was brought to mine, so I asked in a quiet, polite voice, "Sir?" The man grumbled some more but didn't acknowledge me so I tried again a little louder, "Excuse me? Sir?"

"What do you want?"

I jumped, startled by his sudden response, but composed myself quickly and formed my question,

"Um.. Sorry, I don't mean to bother you-"

"But you _are_, so spit it out already," he gruffly interrupted me, his bright blue eyes fixing me with a piercing glare.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. You didn't hear what happened to me, did you? Do you know why I'm here?" I whispered frightfully. His eyes softened when he heard my request, but he quickly resumed his impolite demeanor and answered me.

"Of course I did! How could anybody have slept through _that?_ There were healers bursting in here every twenty seconds or so, some auror was making a right fuss in the hallway, then they had a noisy pair of security wizards take _him _away, then of course there was the fact that all of this commotion was centered around the bed right across from me! How is a man supposed to sleep when noisy distractions keep me up all hours of the night?" His biting comment stung me, but I was too intrigued, and afraid of what might have happened to be put off,

"Do you know _why_ I'm here?" It terrified me to be in a hospital when I didn't even know what had happened to me, especially if there were dozens of healers swooping in the night I was brought in. How long have I been here? Are my injuries going to affect me for life? Can I still walk? My toes. I'm moving them. I can feel them moving. But then what was wrong? My eyes stung with tears. "Do you know what's wrong with me?"

"Don't worry, dear," came a voice from across the room. It was the woman who had been reading, "Don't you mind Mr. Arnold Penny, he means well. He just likes to complain. You are going to be fine, dear. They fixed you right up, they did.

"Yes, yes, yes. I was just about to tell her that, Andromeda, you nosey old woman," Mr. Penny grunted from his position across the room.

"They brought you in a few days ago. There was a Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley. Many casualties, terrible… terrible. Brendon, the boy next to the door, he was in the attack, too. Poor dear, his mother was killed. And young Alex over there," she indicated the boy who had been snoring, "he's Florean Fortesque's grandson, you know! He was cursed helping his grandfather flee Diagon Alley. And you were also found by the aurors after the attack and they brought you here," Andromeda explained.

" The healers were talking about it- cursed. Nearly fatal. Lucky they brought you in quickly, you are."

"Arnold! Don't frighten the poor girl!" Andromeda scolded, narrowing her sharp brown eyes.

"It's fine. _ I_ asked," I lay back down and gazed out the window over Mr. Penny's bed.

"What's your name, dear?" the woman's quiet voice gently prodded through the silence. I looked at the kind-faced old woman and she smiled at me encouragingly. I contemplated her request and took a deep breath, fighting the tears building just behind my eyes.

"I don't know."


	3. I'm Not A Kid

"You can't do that! I _brought _her here!" I bellowed at the mad old bat who refused to allow me to follow Kirsten's stretcher through the emergency room's doors. She looked up at me sternly, not batting an eye even though I towered a foot above her.

"I'm _sorry, Sir._ You aren't _permitted_ to see the patient at this time. Now take a_ seat _before I have you thrown_ OUT_!" the healer snapped back at me. I clenched my teeth and glanced at Ben, who looked pale, but had earlier complied with the healer's request and had sat shakily in one of the patterned seats in the waiting room, then buried his face in his hands. I looked back at the medi-witch who stared up at me, daring me to continue to challenge her authority. I glanced at the swinging doors behind her and back at her smug little face, then I quickly pushed past and darted through the double doors, ignoring her cry of outrage and Ben's voice calling, "James! What the hell are you doing? _James!_"

As I ran, I scanned the hallway for Room 13-B, the room that the healer had sent Kirsten's stretcher just before the tiny little medi-witch had blocked me from following. My head was on a swivel. I darted down the white hallway, dodging surprised healers as they bustled through the hospital and, upon seeing me, pressed themselves to the walls to prevent being knocked over.

_7, 8, 9… keep going. _

"Hey, you! Boy! Stop!" I turned to look behind me. Two, sour-faced, burley men were weaving between the path I had made. I breathed out heavily and rolled my eyes. _Come on, really? I'm an _auror, _not some_ kid. I quickened my jog to a brisk run, ducked through a doorway leading to a stairwell and stood behind the door after letting it swing shut. The security wizards blew through the door and, as I expected them to, flew up the stairs. When they were safely out of earshot, I exited the stairwell and stepped back out into the hallway.

Just across from the stairs was 13-B. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The room was chaos. Healers were hurrying every which way, bursting through the door behind me. Two were trying to calm a hysterical little boy while a third performed diagnostic charms on him. Several healers surrounded another pallid figure, moaning in his own bed, coughing uncontrollably and snapping at the healers when one of them asked him a question or murmured something to write on his clipboard. I kept glancing about the chaos in the eerie, dimly lit room until my eyes locked onto her: Kirsten's limp hand hung slightly off of a bed. I saw glimpses of her chocolate brown hair between the healers as they darted to and from the room. One woman stood next to her in rich, white robes, barking orders at the other healers as she performed diagnostics and checked for a pulse.

I stood, shocked and frozen, next to the door. The chaos stunned me. I couldn't believe that my little sister's headstrong, stubborn, vivacious best friend lay there, pale and lifeless on a hospital bed. My senses returned and I tried to make my way to her bed, but weaving in between the shuffling healers was difficult. No sooner had I gained a foot of ground when a firm hand grabbed my upper arm and refused to yield. I whipped my head around to find the two security wizards behind me, one with a firm grip on my arm, directing me toward the door, the other, holding it open with an impatient scowl on his face.

"L-let go of me," I stammered as I turned back to Kirsten's bed. I had to make sure she was going to be ok. I needed to see her face.

"Sorry, kid. You aren't allowed back here," the one who had my arm said sympathetically.

"I'm not a _kid_! I'm an _auror_!" I argued as I stumbled toward the door. I _had _to see her face, "I brought her here! I'll leave in a second, I promise. Just _let GO!_" I desperately strained to see her through the scurrying healers, and when one of them drew the privacy curtains around her bed, I broke free of the wizard's grasp and lunged forward, but his companion already had my other arm. Together, the two men turned me toward the door and dragged me forward.

"No, Let _GO! _" I was panting by the time the door swung shut behind me. My eyes were wet with tears and I resignedly allowed myself to be directed back to the waiting room by the men.

"Sorry about your sister, kid," said one of the men. I refused to look at him, but mumbled fiercely to the floor,

"She's not my sister." The wizard wasn't offended by my tone, and continued to try to make conversation while we walked back to the lobby,

"Girlfriend?" he asked. I looked up at him, startled and stuttered,

"What? No. That's not- she isn't my. Friend. She's a friend," The man chuckled and directed his eyes back ahead of us.

After an agonizingly long walk, we arrived at the set of double doors that I had pushed through only ten minutes ago. I sheepishly ducked my head when I saw the short medi-witch glaring daggers at me from across the room. Thankfully, she didn't come over. Ben looked up from his hands when he saw me and at first, I thought he was going to tell me off, but instead, he grinned.

"You're barking, mate."

The bearded wizard escorting me reached into his belt and pulled out a pair of shiny, metal handcuffs with which he promptly clasped to the armrest of one of the waiting-chairs. He motioned for me to sit and I looked at him in disbelief.

"Oh, go on then. Sit. It's protocol, kid. Don't want you running off on us again." I started to argue but he quickly silenced me, "You want to stay here, don't you? So give me your wand and sit with us, or we have to throw you out."

I grudgingly sat in the chair designated for me and the bearded wizard secured the other handcuff to my wrist before he sat down to my right and snatched the Witch Weekly off the table in front of us, flipping through it idly. The other wizard sat to my left and stared at his clasped hands on his lap. I sighed exasperatedly, leaned back in my seat and glared at Ben when I heard an unmanly giggle escape him from the other side of the bearded security wizard.

After a half an hour, Ben had started pacing and one of my guards had fallen asleep. He proceeded to snore loudly right next to my ear and I rolled my eyes and groaned before turning as far away from him as I could. We sat there for days- well, it felt like days, but it was probably only an hour or so- before a rapid red blur came bursting through the door to the waiting room.

"Where is she?" my sister, Lily accosted the witch at the front desk, startling the poor woman despite her tiny stature. When she didn't receive a prompt answer, she scanned the room and her eyes stopped on Ben and I. She hurried toward us, barely pausing to look confused at the two, large, burly men seated on either side of me before accosting us in a similar way,

"Where's Kirsten? What happened? Is she ok? Answer me!" Even if I had had something to tell her, I wouldn't have been able to because as her fearful blue eyes searched mine for reassurance, the doors flew open again, and my mum and dad hurried through.

"Lily, dear. Stop yelling. This is a _hospital," _Mum whispered urgently, hurrying to silence her daughter_. _Unlike Lily, however, s_he_ was more concerned with the shiny, new accessory on my wrist. Her eyes narrowed and she whispered fiercely, looking every bit like Grandmum Weasley telling me off,

"James Sirius _Potter_! What on EARTH did you _do?_"


End file.
